


Fornax

by Sophisticated_Adult



Series: We Mapped The Stars [7]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Furnace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fornax

**Author's Note:**

> ...

Right up until Galvatron’s hands are around his neck, Hot Rod had never considered the possibility that he could actually die.

Sure, back on Cybertron they’d been scrabbling in the dirt and he’d shot at and been shot at by plenty of drones and there were always Seekers to worry about, but Shockwave was almost more of an abstract concept than a real threat. Be good and follow your orders or the bad mech will get you. He had, more or less, gotten on with things without worrying too much about it.

Even on the absolute worst day of his life, pressed against Megatron’s side and held hostage more by his own stupidity than anything else, Optimus had been there and he’d known, rock-solid, that the Prime wouldn’t let him die, and he hadn’t.

Here, now, he's alone save for the screaming madness doing its very best to kill him, down in the deepest darkest pit there is, and no one is coming for him. He thought he’d known fear before but this is the real thing, desperate and choking and trying to claw its way out of his throat.

It isn’t brave or heroic, like how he’d bragged with Springer it would be until Arcee got upset and yelled at them that they were both being a pair of idiots. It’s one mech so much bigger than he is it would be hilarious in any other situation crushing him into the dirt, he hopes it's dirt, and he’s going to die with the Matrix a few inches from his face, gently taunting him, _look at how useless you are._ It’s a white splash against dark, dark plating. Maybe he can use his last moments to take it back, Galvatron has no right to it, it’s _Optimus’s_. His hands reach out as his legs kick and flail uselessly and Galvatron laughs, it’s almost offensive at how equally wild and desperate it is. (Later on, he likes to think the laugh is saying _this is not me._ It’s not like Galvatron is always an easy mech to psychoanalyze, but he’s got a better shot than most).

His fingers brush just once against smooth glass. Hot white light spills forth until it fills the universe and both of them scream and there’s a voice in his head, _Rise, Rodimus Prime_.

That’s how it starts.


End file.
